Cancelled
by iWatchtv
Summary: There's always subtext, a story hiding underneath another. From Episode 'Jurisdiction' Tiva because you know you like it. One shot.


**Note**: yeah so still getting my one shots done and conveniently ignoring my multi chapter fic. On a totally unrelated note, my last one shot, the one with palmer, the popcorn and soda behind the glass of interrogation? Remember that? Then last tuesday's episode, Jurisdiction? popcorn and soda in the bullpen? I was close. SO close. I feel smart. Anyway, this one shot is Tiva (what else) because you and I both know the writers didn't throw in random valentine candy and then Tony and Ziva just happen to have a little "movie night". Or whatever. All i'm saying is that there is a subtext to that episode and this is my humble interpretation of it. I would love some reviews because, to be honest, it's like crack to me. But if people like it, then honestly that's enough for me. So this is the end of possibly my most obnoxious authors note. On to the story. PS, I will try to update Six Inches sometime soon. Pinky promise.

Tony recalled the nervousness that had clawed at his stomach the morning he had left the chocolates on her desk.

Valentine's Day hadn't been that stressful for him since third grade; her name had been Adel. It was always the exotic names that did him in.

He had come in as early as he could that day, but even so, he barely had time to sit down before she stepped out of the elevator.

He leaned forward, delving into his work, attempting to hide the fact his heartbeat had just gone into overdrive.

Had she seen him at her desk?

At best, it would be extremely embarrassing for him, at worst painful. He wasn't sure if she was the kind of girl who appreciated corny Valentine's gifts or despised them. On the other hand, she could be the type who despised them but pretended to enjoy them or maybe-

He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Women were confusing.

He looked up as the click of her boots stopped before him.

Ziva grinned down at him as she leaned on his desk.

"Well well well. What do we have here? Tony? Up before the crows cock-a-doodle do?" She teased.

He nearly corrected her, but thought better of it. Instead he grumbled something about it being too early for anyone to be this chipper.

"A part of me wonders whether you are grumpy this morning because you have to finish work that you were supposed to do yesterday or..." she trailed off; brow furrowed in thought, "Or you do not have a date for Valentine's Day!" She pointed accusingly at him.

"Please, I always have a date for Valentine's Day." He lied easily.

She smiled patronizingly at him, a look that clearly said 'of course you do' and then turned towards her own desk. Her steps faltered as she noticed the foreign object neatly centered before her keyboard.

She threw Tony a puzzled glance. He didn't reacted.

She slid into her chair and surreptitiously read the note attached. Tony had watched her eyes fly over the simple message while taking pains to look like he was doing nothing of the sort.

_Dinner later? _Was all it said, along of course, with a reservation ticket to one of the fanciest restaurants in DC. Of course, said reservation wasn't for another month. Who knew a place like that would be completely booked for Valentines? And for three weeks after.

"Tony...?" She asked.

He shrugged.

"It was there when I got here." He responded without looking her in the eye.

She had pursed her lips and put it the box carefully away into her drawer.

And there it had stayed until this morning.

As he watched her toy with the cheap aluminum, he suddenly realized that tonight was the night he had arranged a semi blind date with the beautiful assassin.

Emphasis on the assassin.

And on beautiful too, but that went without saying.

Lost van keys suddenly seemed very insignificant.

Was it coincidence that today, of all days the small tin made an appearance? Either that or fate had a sick sense of humor. He hadn't forgotten, per se, but he had slowly come to hope that she had. The small cracks and his flaws in his plan became gaping chasms of idiocy in hindsight.

The idea had been appealing a few weeks ago, when today had only been a speck on the metaphorical horizon. Today was a lot scarier up close.

By mid afternoon he had imagined a hundred different dinners, a thousand conversations, all with one woman. It never really ended well. For him anyway.

As dusk fell, Tony came to the conclusion that if he followed through with this formerly ingenious plan, he could lose Ziva's friendship, or at the very least her respect. How could she take him seriously if he didn't even have the courage to ask her on a date (and probably be promptly rejected and ridiculed) in person? An anonymous note? Why had he ever thought of it as anything resembling a good idea?

There was also the possibility that when he arrived she would think he had followed her, or, if by some miracle, she believed he had arranged it, it would make things...awkward.

Of course, the alternative left the woman he...Ziva, it left Ziva, alone and looking foolish and in all likelihood seething and murderous.

At least she wouldn't know who had stood her up.

Probably.

Hopefully.

Though the hours crawled by, evening came much too quickly. The closest thing Tony had to a solution was abandoning Ziva, and that wasn't much of a solution at all.

He sighed heavily as he forcefully shoved his belongings into his bag. If he had been able to, he would have head slapped his past self. A mysterious meeting at the Tosca? Sure it was Italian, but it wasn't him.

His hand stopped as it reached the recently rediscovered DVD that had been lurking in the back of his desk. His fingers absentmindedly traced the title.

Tony smiled despite himself.

Maybe there was such a thing as fate.

"Hey Ziva, do you like Pirates?"

*****

Less than an hour later, there they sat, an entire floor to themselves, lights dimmed, soda in one hand, popcorn in the other, an old movie flickering across the screen.

Tony was certainly enjoying it more that dinner at a place that had more utensils than waiters. Here, now, the bullpen was cozy, familiar. It was very...DiNozzo.

They bantered back and forth, naturally. They couldn't be in a room together without a little good natured teasing.

"My date canceled." Ziva said finally. Her eyes were...indecipherable. Tony finally tore his own away.

"Yeah. Mine too."


End file.
